


Jailbait

by HigherMagic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Prison, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Prison Sex, Self-Lubrication, Shower Sex, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Three weeks Jensen has been in this prison, sharing his cell with Misha, and so the Beta knows, without taking a deep breath of air or before he even has Jensen in his line of sight, what the cause of his cell mate's soft, pained sounds must be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jailbait

**Author's Note:**

>  Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

Misha blinks awake at the sound of a low whimper, and stretches out on the top bunk of his cell. It's cold this morning, enough that apparently during the night he had drawn the thin blanket tight up around his shoulders, and he lets it fall off now, baring the skin of his arms and back to the chilly air. The sun peaks weakly through the barred window and he squints at it, sending a half-hearted growl its way.

At the sound of his growl, the whimpering noise happens again, and Misha rolls over to the side of the bed, scooting so that he can hang his head – enjoying the little head rush – to see the his cell mate on the bottom bunk. Jensen.

Jensen has been in the prison for a little over three weeks. The Beta and Omega prison is tiny, miniscule in comparison to the Alpha prisons since it is almost genetically impossible for an Omega to commit any kind of violent crime, and out of the maybe fifty or so prisoners here Jensen is the newest, and the youngest by far. His file reads grand theft auto but Misha knows that basically Jensen's crime had been 'stealing' his parents' car to drive his little sister to the hospital in an emergency. It had given him three years.

His sister is an Alpha. His punishment for letting her suffer would have been far greater.

Sometimes life just isn't fair to Omegas.

Three weeks Jensen has been in this prison, sharing his cell with Misha, and so the Beta knows, without taking a deep breath of air or before he even has Jensen in his line of sight, what the cause of his cell mate's soft, pained sounds must be.

Heat.

Sure enough, his suspicions are confirmed as soon as his sights land on the Omega. Jensen has his back pressed against the cold cement wall, his chest and arms bare where he's taken off his shirt to get more contact on the cool surface. His skin is flushed and shines with sweat, his hair plastered to the sides of his face and the back of his neck. The ugly orange prison trousers cling to his legs, damp with sweat and what Misha assumes is the Omega's natural slick.

Jensen isn't awake yet, but his eyes roll feverishly back and forth under his eyelids. Carefully Misha lifts himself out of his bed and climbs down the ladder, his bare feet landing silently on the concrete. They have about an hour before lights up and the prisoners are let out into the communal area.

"Jensen," he whispers, moving close and laying a hand on the Omega's shoulder. Jensen feels like he's burning underneath Misha's touch and the Beta flinches, wincing in sympathy for the younger man's situation. "Jensen, wake up." He squeezes Jensen's shoulder gently, shaking him a little, and green eyes dark and almost completely black with need flare open, locking onto him with uncanny quickness and sharpness.

Jensen takes a deep breath and the air is heavy and thick with mating pheromones. "Time to get up already?" he asks, voice low and raspy. He's shaking just slightly under Misha's touch and the Beta carefully moves his hand away.

He tries to get up, to move, but almost as soon as he gets his arm locked a bone-deep shudder runs through him and he collapses down onto the bed again, gasping, his legs curled up to his stomach. "Shit," he moans, realization sparking in his eyes when he looks to Misha. "No Alphas around. I'd thought it wouldn't happen."

"Sometimes it doesn't," Misha admits, cocking his head to one side. He reaches forward, one hand resting on Jensen's feverish forehead, and he brushes the younger man's hair away. "They can make arrangements…"

"No!" Jensen gasps, a little too loudly, eyes flaring wide and afraid and he scrambles back, pressing his back against the wall as tight as he can. From the shift in position Misha can see the dark stain of natural lubricant on his orange bottoms and his mouth twists down in sympathy. Jensen curls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins. "I…They pair us with Alphas from the prison, right?" Misha nods. "I _can't_ do that! I…what if they're sick, twisted…what if they _do something_. No one's gonna help a fucking prison bitch."

"Hush, now," Misha whispers, reaching forward slowly again and settling a hand on Jensen's knee, despite how the Omega flinches on instinct, a small shiver running through him at the heat of the Beta's touch. Normally Misha wouldn't bother with helping Jensen – just wait until a guard noticed or have him figure it out on his own – but the younger man kind of reminds Misha of his own little brother, and the kinder, Beta side of him cannot resist that kind of affection. "Then what are you going to do?"

"I…" The Omega pauses, a pretty pink blush darkening his cheeks for a moment as he dips his eyes coyly down, fingers picking nervously at the material of his trousers, one hand sliding down the outside of his own thigh and digging in hard. "I don't know," he admits, another shiver running through him. "Do Betas have knots?"

"Small ones," Misha replies, frowning a little – surely Jensen doesn't intend to ask a guard to aid him, or another prisoner. That would get him caught and either earn him time in solitary or forced mating to an Alpha to calm his heat down. "Not as big as an Alpha's, but they're there."

"Misha…" Jensen whispers his name almost too low to be heard, and the Beta's grip tightens as a conclusion starts to form.

"No," he says.

Jensen's eyes snap up to his face. "I haven't asked you anything yet."

"I know what you're going to ask," the Beta replies, standing and parting from Jensen. The Omega's soft, pain-filled whine forces him to halt not far from the bunks, though. The sounds feels like a blade cutting him and he turns back around. "I can't, Jensen. A secret like that is something that cannot be kept. It won't work."

"I won't tell a soul," the Omega says softly, earnestly, his eyes dark with a mixture of sincerity and lust. His heat must have been building up for a while in his sleep, or must act quickly, because already his fingertips are shaking and his voice is growing unsteady from need. "I promise, Misha. I _swear_. I just…" He pauses, looking down again, submissive in the face of the Beta's unblinking gaze. "I've never been with an Alpha. I don't…I don't want to be taken by a _savage_."

Misha's eyes flash for a moment. "There are Alphas in that prison who have not done as bad as I," he murmurs quietly, and Jensen nods, ducking his head at the low growl of the Beta's voice.

"Just once," he pleads, eyes large and imploring as he scoots to the edge of his bunk, his skin breaking into goosebumps and his nipples pebbling at the cool air, despite his heat – or perhaps enhanced because of it. Misha's eyes, seemingly of their own volition, rake over the Omega's body. The scent of pheromones is starting to affect him, he imagines, because his breath is quickening – he is panting, taking in more of Jensen's scent, and his heartbeat seems too heavy and loud and fast in his chest. "Just once," Jensen whispers again, his lips forming the words though Misha can barely hear him, his eyes locked on the way that Jensen's lips move – so full and red and ripe. "I'll be fine after that, I promise. When I'm thinking straight again."

"Jensen." Misha shakes his head, knowing just as surely as Jensen does how much of a lie those words are. It won't make things better – if Misha has sex with Jensen, establishing his dominance over the Omega, then that will be that. Jensen will crave him. They both already know this. He takes a step forward, back towards Jensen, and gently palms the back of the Omega's head, standing close enough that Jensen can rest his forehead against Misha's bare belly. "We can't do this," he says, closing his eyes when Jensen turns his head, hot puff of breath seeping into his skin, open mouth pressing against his stomach.

"Please." Jensen nuzzles against him, able to smell the potent Beta scent, so close, and his body quakes with need, his muscles tense and quivering, desperate to submit and press himself to the ground for his dominant. Slowly, quietly, he slides forward, off of the bed, and down onto his knees. The cold cement is uncomfortable but if they're going to do this then the beds' creaking will be too loud and will draw attention. Misha doesn't move – his hands are still on the back of Jensen's head, gentle and still. "Please, Misha. If you don't, they'll take me away. I can't…I'm scared."

" _Jensen_." Breaking, Misha falls to his knees in front of the Omega, his other hand joining the first on the back of Jensen's head, fingers threading through the soft, fine hairs, curling at his nape, and he kisses the Omega, pressing their mouths together in something that is hungry and hot and soothing at the same time. Jensen is trembling, his skin feels like it's on fire, and Misha allows himself to breathe deep, to take in the scent of a ripe and willing Omega mate. He bites down on Jensen's full lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, knowing that the sharp point of pain and the small scent of blood will encourage Jensen's more submissive mating instincts to overwhelm him. The quicker and more quietly they do this, the better.

Jensen stifles a soft moan against Misha's mouth, tilting his head to try and dive deeper, his hands clenching uselessly by his sides, unsure if he's allowed to touch or not. They are too close to the bars of their cell for his liking but he can't bring himself to part from Misha and suggest they move – he feels like he's about to explode, heat and need flaring up in him almost violently and he gasps, arching his body against Misha's. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about this, never wanted it. Misha is strong and kind to him and pretty much the only inmate that everyone else is afraid of – the most dominant and strongest of the available 'mates', in Jensen's head – and that makes him ideal. Perfect. Having this, now, makes Jensen flush with guilt, knowing that Misha is only doing this because Jensen's acting like a desperate little bitch and for no other reason than instinct.

He makes another low sound when Misha pulls away, and those blue eyes flash and a hand is suddenly covering his mouth, the fingers still on the back of his neck tightening until he wants to curl his shoulders and duck his head down and submit. Misha leans in close, their foreheads resting against one another's, and one corner of his mouth quirks up slightly.

"Be as quiet as you can," he whispers, like he is telling a child how to play Hide and Seek, and then he drags his fingers away, letting Jensen breathe. The Omega blinks once at him before lowering his gaze demurely, leaning in and pressing his cheek against Misha's jaw in a gesture of supplication and affection. The Beta rumbles lowly, his hand gentling and stroking through the fine hairs at the nape of Jensen's neck. "We need to move away from the bars, Jensen."

"Yes…Okay," the Omega whispers, shoving himself up onto unsteady feet, his fingers interlacing with Misha's as the Beta keeps close, guiding the younger man towards the back wall of their cell, behind the bunk bed. They shuffle and manage to finally get behind the bed – it is the only privacy and shelter they will get, shielded a little at least by the bottom mattress. Misha smiles slightly, cupping Jensen's face, and guides the younger man into another kiss, his body pressing close, slotting in perfectly enough that Jensen moans.

"Hush," Misha warns, shoving Jensen down to his knees again and kneeling also, somehow managing to position them so that Jensen is straddling Misha's thighs, the Beta leaning back against the cold cement wall, the rough surface digging uncomfortably into his back.

Jensen whines, rolling his hips until his heat falls across Misha's hardness – in the thin, loose material of the prison pants, there is nowhere to hide and the Omega begins to pant in anticipation, his mouth open and his nostrils flared wide at the scent of dominant Beta. Another soft, breathy sound escapes him when Misha's hand leaves his neck, and he closes his eyes, arching close and eager as Misha's fingers dig into the waistband of his pants and yank down, slick material peeling off his ass and thighs with a small, wet noise.

"Please, Misha, please, I need you to fuck me. Please -."

"Shut _up_ , Jensen," the Beta snaps, eyes flashing and voice sharp as his fingers tighten in Jensen's skin. The Omega stills suddenly, breath hitching in fear and he flinches away, ducking his head with a soft gasp. Misha watches him for a moment, jaw clenched as he swallows back his anger, and sighs, brushing a thumb across Jensen's sweaty temple, trying to remember that Jensen is in heat and desperate – he is trying to be gentle, to be slow and not hurt Jensen, doesn't want Jensen to be afraid of him like he is afraid of an Alpha, but instinct is a hard thing to ignore and Misha has always been more of an Alpha-inclined Beta than otherwise. He sighs again, blue eyes softening, and curls his fingers to hook under Jensen's chin. They don't have long now – it is only half an hour, judging from his sense of time passing, until the guards start to make their rounds. "Jensen," he whispers, waiting until liquid green eyes meet his. "I swear that I will take care of you, but you need to trust me. Cannot push me. Do you understand?"

Jensen's eyes dart over his face, his cheeks flushing, and he bites down on his lower lip, ducking his head. His hands come up, fingers fluttering slightly until he settles them on Misha's shoulders, fingertips brushing over the sharp shaft of Misha's collarbones. His forehead rests against Misha's neck, soft, sweat-damp tufts of hair tickling the Beta's flushed skin, and Misha hums softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Jensen's head.

"Kneel," he murmurs, shoving at Jensen's shoulders and the Omega – confused, wide-eyed – goes, submitting to the determined press of Misha's long fingers and strong hands until Jensen is kneeling on the floor, his fingers curled around the iron railing along the bottom bunk, Misha kneeling behind him. Jensen shivers, his overheated skin making the room feel like it's freezing, until Misha's large, warm hands smooth out over his flanks, down his hips, fingers just curling around the fronts of his thighs.

He pushes his hips back with a wordless plea, knowing Misha would just tell him to be quiet again if he begged.

The Beta pauses a moment, sharp blue eyes roving over Jensen's body hungrily – the boy really is beautiful, truly an Omega in his beauty; the sleek lines of his muscles underneath skin as smooth as a newborn's, lightly dusted with freckles on his shoulders and down his back. One of Misha's hands splay out over Jensen's spine, tracing a constellation on his freckles as he scoots closer, shoves Jensen's knees out farther with his own, delighting in how the Omega flattens himself further to the ground, knees spread out, his arms shaking with the effort to hold himself up and not shove his face against the bed.

"You are a beauty," he murmurs, almost too low to hear, and pulls back only to roll his own trousers down to his thighs, freeing his cock which is flushed and reddened from blood, arching up eagerly, the small swell of his knot already starting to form. He can _taste_ the boy's blush in the air and he curls forward, rumbling softly – he needs to hurry. He feels like if he closes his eyes and listens hard enough, over the pounding of his own heart and Jensen's rapid, heavy breathing, he can hear the jingle of the guard's keys and their heavy booted footsteps. He grips Jensen tight with one hand around his hip, the other wrapping under the Omega's arm and slanting across his mouth again, pulling Jensen back and forcing his throat to bare, letting Misha press his eager mouth against Jensen's thundering pulse.

With that, Jensen trembling in his arms and his cock aching to be buried inside the wet, tight heat of an Omega bitch, he ruts forward like an animal, until his cockhead catches Jensen's rim and slips inside.

As soon as the sensation registers – the wet clench of Jensen's starved body – Misha thrusts all the way in with a tight snarl against Jensen's throat, fingers clenching hard around the boy's mouth and his hip. Jensen is _tight_ , unbelievably so, and his body is already clenching, milking Misha for seed and a knot and how badly the Beta wants to give it to him. He fucks into Jensen, sheathing himself into the Omega's desperate body as Jensen pants, eyes wet and panting breathy little whines against Misha's palm.

His cock itches to fuck deeper into Jensen, as deep as he can go, and knot and swell and fill him. Jensen moans, high-pitched and loud – against Misha's hand as he does just that, the instinct to fuck his bitch and knot him overwhelming Misha despite how much he tries to control himself. The part of the Beta that is also an Alpha screams at him to _take_ and _drive_ and _fuck_ and he does, thrusting hard into Jensen, pulling out slow, rutting back in.

Jensen bows his head, groaning, his back arching, hips raised to angle Misha deeper and the Beta snarls against the back of Jensen's neck, moving his hand from the boy's hip to wrap around his chest. He bares his teeth against the back of Jensen's neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as he presses flush to Jensen's ass and begins to rut. He can feel it, now, the swell of his knot, itching to be buried inside of his bitch,

"Misha, _please_ ," Jensen gasps, shoving back harder onto Misha's cock, and yeah, that's it…Misha snarls lowly again as his knot manages to slip inside, immediately swelling up to the point where removing it, though possible, would hurt Jensen more than necessary. He stills, rocking his hips against Jensen's ass tight, flush, wanting to be buried as deep inside of that wet _heat_ as he can, and Jensen groans loud and long against Misha's palm, his body shuddering through his own orgasm, which Misha barely registers over the haze of satisfaction and fierce pride building up in him, knowing that his bitch enjoyed being taken and bred.

He sighs loudly, mouthing at Jensen's neck while his cock jerks inside of Jensen. His knot will deflate soon and his seed with not satisfy Jensen's starved body for long, he knows that, but for now it doesn't matter. His hand slowly drags from Jensen's mouth to his jaw, cupping the inviting curve of his neck and then stroking down his chest and arms. He gently coaxes Jensen to sit back against him so that they are both kneeling on their own weights and Jensen's shaking body does not need to work so hard to support him.

"Feeling better?" he asks, almost surprised at how low and raspy his voice is, how hard it is to talk at first. Jensen shivers, pressing back against him, shivering now that the fires of his heat have died, at least for the moment. He flushes a little, turning his head to look Misha in the eye.

"Thank you," he whispers, speaking quietly, gentle now that his body has been sated. Misha smiles, just slightly, in an expression that doesn't reach his eyes, and leans forward to press a kiss to Jensen's shoulder blade. At that moment, his knot shrinks enough that he slips out of Jensen, come and slick following him and leaking out of the younger man, and Jensen winces, squirming slightly. They won't be able to wear these uniforms until they have been thoroughly washed. "So gross."

Misha chuckles, standing, and goes to the toilet that is in their cell after hitching his pants back up around his hips. He unrolls some toilet paper and hands it to the Omega, who blushes and takes it with a small, sheepish smile, cleaning himself up before fishing out a new uniform to wear. Not even three minutes later a guard comes around to unlock their cell and allow them into the common area.

He knows it is merely his instincts forcing him to think this way now, but Misha doesn't like the thought of Jensen going out into the common area alone. After all, there _are_ other Betas in the prison, capable of satisfying Jensen's needs should he become desperate again. The very _idea_ makes him hover around the younger male all morning. It seems to be an unspoken change that everyone acknowledges because only the Omegas greet and interact with Jensen, all of them slightly flushed in sympathetic hormone spikes. The Omegas will respect Jensen's desire not to be bred to an Alpha and so Misha knows they will keep their mouths shut, but should a Beta get a whiff of the ripe bitch at the wrong time, who knows what could happen.

When it comes time for their two hours of exercise, Misha visibly snaps at any Beta that comes close to Jensen. He watches with sharp, hawk-like eyes as the Alphas next door are let into their own pen. He watches with a soft snarl when Jensen tenses, eyes wide and afraid when he watches the huge beasts pour out of the prison – Jensen has a right to be afraid. Alphas are, by nature, mean, aggressive, and strong. Alphas in prison just means that they exceed the normal level of testosterone-fueled douchebaggery, combined with sexual deprivation (because an Alpha will only bottom if it's dead) and an Omega and Beta prison right next door. It is a breeding ground for assholes and aggressive Alphas.

He reaches a hand out, places a possessive hand on Jensen's thigh, grips too tight. "Don't go near them," he whispers, still looking at the larger men. They are downwind and the Alphas won't be able to smell Jensen, if they smell the Omegas at all.

Jensen swallows. His hands are shaking. "They're…they're _huge,_ aren't they," he whispers, his eyes wide, before he turns to Misha and another shudder runs through him. "I…I can _smell_ them."

"I know," Misha replies, never so glad for his birth that meant he would never have to suffer an Omega heat. He reaches forward and brushes a hand down the side of Jensen's face. "In a few minutes they'll let us into the showers."

Jensen's eyes flare open, at once hopeful and so lost. He looks so young. "Just a few minutes?" he asks, sounding small and scared, and Misha nods, smiling a little.

"Hey there, pretty boys," comes the first catcall, making Misha tense up and snarl. The call isn't even directed towards them – some of the Alphas have grown seemingly bored of each other and have turned their attention to the Omega and Beta pen. The winds are changing, starting to mix and swirl together and Misha knows that it's only a matter of time before -. "Which one of you's ripe?"

Jensen flushes darkly, trying to hide away behind Misha but the Beta, knowing it will be a dead giveaway, tightens his grip on Jensen's thigh and forces him to remain still with a sharp look.

"Misha, I'm…" Jensen cuts off, breathing in sharply, and the Beta nods, pressing his lips together.

"Stay," he commands, rising to his feet, and Jensen's eyes widen, seeing him go. He reaches for Misha but the Beta bats his touch away. "Please, Jensen. Two minutes. I swear I won't let them touch you." He can't wait for Jensen's reply – has no time – and he turns around and hurries away before Jensen can catch him again.

"Leaving so soon?" one of the Alphas calls to him and he tosses a glare towards the man – large, bald-headed, an ugly, new tattoo adorning the side of his face as he smiles too wide. There is about three feet between the Omega pen fence and the Alphas', but there may as well be nothing with how the Alpha is staring at him. Just as Misha is done looking at him and continues on his way, he hears the man take a sharp inhale, eyes widening. "Aww, come on, blue-eyes! Don't leave us yet!"

The other Alphas, seemingly catching on with Tattoo's discovery, crowd close to the fence where Misha is walking towards one of the Beta guards, their eyes eager and bright and lustful. The catcalls get worse and Misha feels himself bristle a little – he's a _Beta_ , damn it – but he forces himself to remain silent. For Jensen's sake.

No one is to touch him.

He reaches one of the guards; one he has become friends with. "Christian," he murmurs, drawing close while the Alpha's calls turn more wheedling – 'Come on, blue eyes, he won't have a big enough knot for ya', 'Come over here and we'll fuck you good', 'Bend over, pretty boy, let's see that leaking ass' – and he ignores them, fixing his attention on the guard. "Jensen is in heat."

The guard's eyes widen – he, too, had grown fond of Jensen under Misha's wary eye. He takes a sharp breath. "You've already fucked him," he says.

"This morning," Misha replies, nodding, pressing his lips together. "But the Alphas…they are affecting him. He is afraid. Allow us to go inside, please."

Christian frowns and sighs, shaking his head. "You know I can't do that, Misha, I'm sorry."

"Damn it." Misha snaps his jaws together, looking back towards the Omega. Jensen is trembling, and Misha notes that some of the Omegas have gathered closer around their weak member, shielding him, their heads raised high in defiance against their comrades in the pen. Good. "He is too afraid for an Alpha, Christian. He trusts me. He needs me."

"He needs an _Alpha_ ," the guard replies.

"Did you not just hear me?" A thought occurs to Misha, then, and he cocks his head to one side. "I shall return." Then, he hurries back to Jensen's side. The sea of Omegas around Jensen parts for him and he drops to his knees in front of the younger man, taking Jensen's chin in hand.

"Misha, what -?"

"Do you trust me?" Misha asks, speaking quickly, sharply.

Jensen tenses up, regarding the impatient Beta with a wary eye, before he nods, looking down at his hands. "What is this about?"

"We cannot continue like this," Misha says softly, forcing his voice to become gentle so that he doesn't scare Jensen as much with what he is about to say; "One time with an Alpha and your heat will disappear until next month. If -." He stops, forces Jensen to look at him when the Omega flinches away, afraid. "If _I_ choose the Alpha, if they can only get to you through me…I promise, Jensen, I swear on my life, that I will not let them hurt you. I can…I will be near. I will help you."

Jensen is shaking his head, breathing heavy and hard through his mouth – he sounds like he is close to hyperventilating and Misha can feel his rapid pulse beneath his fingertips. The Beta swallows, looking over his shoulder to the Alphas gathered, watching with sharp, interested eyes and feral smiles. No guarantee there, of course.

"Misha, Jensen." Christian comes over to them, parting the sea of Omegas again. "Inside, both of you, before you cause a riot."

Once they are escorted in, Misha leads Jensen to the back stall of the showers and shoves him down to his hands and knees, mounting him in one swift, easy movement. Jensen is still just as wet and tight as he had been that morning, and the Omega lets out a soft, pitiful whimper at the feeling of being breached, before Misha's hands cover his mouth again.

"Am I enough?" the Beta growls, slamming into Jensen's eager body hard enough to make the Omega jolt and groan in pain, grassy eyes wet and shining, squeezing closed. "You know a Beta isn't. Not when you're in your heat. _Damn it,_ Jensen."

The Omega's hands scrabble uselessly at the damp tiles, his shoulders tensed as his arms strain to keep himself upright as Misha thrusts into him again and again. It just feels so damn good, the niggling _not enough_ feeling almost easy to ignore when Misha's fucking him like this. He spreads his knees wider, lowers himself to the ground, and licks at Misha's fingers, begging the Beta to continue, urging him on with every quiet sound and arch of his body.

Misha snarls when Jensen comes, the Omega's body clenching tight so that, even without fully swelling, pulling out causes his body to twinge in pain at the tug on his knot. He grunts, fucking deep, and breathes out against Jensen's sweat-damp skin, able to feel the wet slick against his thighs where they are pressed up against Jensen's, keeping his legs apart.

"You need an Alpha," he whispers, leaning down and nosing along the line of soft hairs at Jensen's nape. His hands move from the Omega's mouth, stroking his shoulders and arms as Jensen trembles with the effort of keeping their combined weight up.

He shakes his head, gasping quietly, still quivering as he comes down from his orgasm. "Just you," he says, like he's trying to make himself believe it, and turns around to look at Misha with desperate jade eyes. "I swear. I can handle it. You've just gotta…"

"What? Keep _fucking_ you?" Jensen blushes at that, ducking his head shyly, lashes fluttering down and that one gesture makes him look so innocent – Misha has to rock his hips forward just a little, the _dirtywrong_ spike of lust is that sharp. "You barely made it a few hours."

At that, the Omega's mouth twists, just slightly, and he looks away, eyes closed. "I'm sorry," he whispers, sounding suddenly tired and guilty.

Misha frowns, cocking his head to one side, and pets a hand through Jensen's hair, forcing him to turn his head again and for their gazes to lock. "Sorry for what?" he asks, stroking his thumb down the line of Jensen's jaw.

"You don't really want me," he says, looking down at the cold tile floor. Misha blinks at him, unable to think of something to say to that – he's buried knot-deep inside of the boy and Jensen thinks he doesn't _want_ him? "S'just instinct, I know, but…I don't know. I guess it meant more because I trust you, you know? I don't…I can't _do_ that with an Alpha. It would really be just sex then and I can't…"

"Jensen." The Omega tenses up, eyes snapped open and locked on his hands, refusing to look Misha in the eye.

It is at that moment that Misha's knot shrinks enough that his flaccid cock can slip from Jensen's body, making the Omega hiss slightly, clenching at air, before he pushes himself to his feet, strips down, and then shoves at the taps until the water starts running. Misha stands, uncaring for how the water is soaking the front of his own clothes as Jensen washes the sweat off his skin.

"Jensen," the Beta tries again, taking a step forward. "Look at me."

"No," comes the stubborn reply, the Omega keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the wall, shoulders set.

Misha growls softly – a low rumble that no one would hear unless their hand was pressed right against his chest – and reaches for Jensen, taking his shoulders and spinning him around, slamming the Omega up against the wall of their shower. The motion brings him into the path of the water and the warm water splashes down on him, soaking his hair and his clothes and making them plaster to his body, but he doesn't mind – the water is warm and Jensen feels like he is burning hot. The Omega's eyes are wide and startled when he is brought around to face Misha.

"I try," Misha begins, voice hard, his eyes flashing as he fixes them on the Omega's face, unwavering, "to be a creature that is not ruled by instinct. If it were just _instinct_ that made me fuck you, Jensen, then I would be far less willing to hand you off to some knothead so he can get a piece of your hungry ass." Jensen shivers, biting his lower lip, cheeks flushing as he squirms under Misha's unblinking gaze. "But I am not just a creature of instinct," Misha continues, straightening, his hands moving from Jensen's shoulders, down his bare chest, tracing the trail of one particular droplet of water, learning the Omega's heart rate through his fingertips, skating gently over the lines of his ribs. Jensen shivers. "I am using logic, Jensen – logic that you seem incapable of grasping." Jensen opens his mouth to speak, to protest, but Misha shushes him with one finger, pressing gently against Jensen's full lips, a small smirk curving his mouth. "But if you do not want to use that logic," he whispers, voice lowering as he takes a small step forward, presses just right so that his slightly smaller body can fit in line with Jensen's shaking one, "then I will not argue with you."

"You -." Jensen gasps, shaking, when Misha's hand curves around his flank, done with the exploration of his chest, and hooks at the small of Jensen's back, pressing them more firmly together. Without thinking he wraps his arms around Misha's shoulders, hooking in, holding fast. His body is starting to burn again. "You want me?"

Misha's smile merely grows darker, sharpening at the edges in a predatory look that reminds Jensen of Alphas, but not in a way that frightens him – that look makes him clench in anticipation, shuddering around the jolt of mind-numbing heat that curls up at the base of his spine. Outside, he can hear the doors opening again, knows that the rest of the Betas and Omegas will be let inside from their exercise now, into the showers. They won't be alone for much longer.

Given how Misha had insisted on his silence and chastity when in public before, Jensen squirms to get away from the Beta despite how much his body burns for the touch, his cock now hanging half-hard between his legs, but Misha merely tightens his grip and snarls at him, head ducking to bare his teeth against Jensen's throat. The Omega stills, instinct demanding he be quiet and submissive for his dominant 'mate'.

Misha's eyes are practically _glittering_ when he lifts his gaze to Jensen's face, smirking wide when the door to the showers open and the rest of the inmates pour in, hesitating only briefly when they see the pair already inside. The Omegas flock together to the end stalls, Betas on the other side, with Misha and Jensen forming some sort of barrier between the two. Jensen has gone tense in his arms, nervous around the other Betas but, in the running water like this, his scent is muted, dissolved, and Misha has to press his nose right against Jensen's damp skin to be able to smell him, fingers hooking in the backs of Jensen's thighs and pulling him in close.

Jensen shudders, his hips thrusting forward when his cock hardens fully, bumping against Misha's stomach, his wet clothes providing an odd friction that Jensen drives for, eyes going half-lidded. He feels the shift in dominance clearly, naked, needing, Misha still fully clothes and looking calm as ever. Then, slowly, Misha sinks to his knees in front of Jensen, grinning up at him like a cat that got the cream.

The shower stalls are relatively open and Jensen knows that anyone who would care to look would be able to see Misha, his hand cupping Jensen's heavy balls, his lips lightly rubbing against the shaft of the Omega's cock – it makes him flush, nervous and a little embarrassed at the idea of being so on display, but then Misha's mouth opens wide around the head of his cock, and a finger sinks into his wet, fucked-open hole, and then suddenly Jensen is too busy biting his forearm to muffle his whimpers to worry about much of anything.

Misha's eyes close as he kneels up, changing the angle so that he can sink deeper on Jensen's cock, and the Omega _mewls_ , head lolling back against the tile wall. Jesus _fuck_ but it feels good, Misha's wicked tongue curling around the head of his cock, sending little shivers of lightning up and down Jensen's spine. His fingers sink further still, a second sliding in and curling, and Jensen feels torn between the two sensations, wanting to thrust forward and fuck backwards at the same time. He feels a second away from collapsing, going weak at the knees as Misha sucks him, his cheeks hollowing out, and he moans around Jensen's cock, making the Omega shudder.

He tries to be quiet. Really, he does, but he can't completely despite almost biting through his arm to keep his sounds muffled. He can feel the eyes of other Omegas and Betas on him, knows they know exactly what's going on. He can smell their scents mingling together, arousals sparking up all around them and, though he knows they won't touch him, won't interrupt, the idea that they _could_ makes him shudder again – it's thrilling, holding that attention, so much sensation of so many eyes, heavy, lusting, on him.

Misha sinks a third finger into his needy body and Jensen makes a harsh noise against the back of his clenched teeth, reaching down with his free hand to fist in Misha's hair, and the Beta snarls around him goes down all the way until his reddened lips are wrapped tight around the base of his cock, swallowing, groaning, and Jensen's _done_. He comes with a low shout, feeling like the orgasm is being ripped out of his very _toes_ , and Misha pulls off of his cock, stroking him through it, angling him downwards so his come is washed away by the water.

It almost makes him laugh, the realization that of course Misha wouldn't swallow.

The Beta's eyes are hard and dark – almost black – when he looks back up at Jensen, pushing himself to his feet. Wordlessly he strips his sodden orange shirt over his head, mussing up his soaking hair and Jensen swallows, knowing that it is his turn to get to his knees. Without a word the Omega kneels, turning to the side so he can brace his hands against the shower wall, knees spread wide, body ready to be taken.

Misha's upper lip curls back in a low snarl, and he raises his head to look at the other inmates. A few are watching, most of them wise enough to know that they need to turn away and pay attention to other things now. Blue eyes lock with others', defiance flaring as the part of him that is an Alpha flares, strong and fierce, inside of him. He waits until they all turn away, until his bitch's needy whimpers pull him down.

"Jensen," he whispers, taking the Omega's face in his hands, and pulls the younger man to face him. He smiles a little, kneeling down, shifting so that the tile doesn't dig into his feet uncomfortably, and then pulls Jensen onto his lap, wrapping strong, gentle hands around his waist. "It's not instinct, remember?"

The Omega's eyes brighten with understanding, and he smiles at Misha – a happy, loving smile of a mate, and leans forward to kiss him, fingers lacing tight in Misha's dark, wet hair as the Beta guides his cock inside of Jensen once again. It is Misha who shudders that time when he sheathes himself inside of the younger man, heat clenching down on him from all sides, a fierce sensation burning in his chest that is not quite possessiveness or jealousy – not quite love or pure desire. It is satisfying. It feels good.

"Not instinct," Jensen whispers, presses the words against his mouth and Misha smiles, helping Jensen to lift and sink back down onto him, his fingers pressing tight bruises into the Omega's gorgeous pale skin. Misha jerks into Jensen every time the Omega sinks down, his knot itching to be buried deep inside of the boy, and he knows, judging by the way Jensen rolls his hips and presses tight, that Jensen is desperate for it too. Only when they are knotted once more does Misha realize that the showers are empty except for the two of them, the others having cleared out long before, and the water has long ago stopped running. Jensen shivers at the cold, ducking close to Misha's skin, his head resting comfortably on the Beta's shoulder.

Misha smiles a little, turning his head to one side to place a soft kiss against Jensen's neck, his hands flattening out over the Omega's spine as they settle together, Misha spilling his seed deep inside of Jensen and sating his heat for another few hours. Jensen is practically purring with contentment and, despite the slight chill in the air and the fact that he's still half-wearing his soaking-wet trousers and they're starting to itch, Misha feels pretty damn content too.

And somewhere, in a small, dark part of his mind, he's _really_ fucking glad that he didn't push harder for Jensen to be mated to an Alpha. 'Cause there's no way he could compete with _that_ , but here, in this prison, he is the dominant, and Jensen will submit to him. And, yeah, he can definitely get used to that.

  



End file.
